


Wohlschmerz

by Archangelsings



Series: Cowboys and Aliens [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Accidental Death, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, BDSM, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Bondage, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dark, Dark fic, Dark!Faraday, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, F/M, Flogging, Future Varaday, Jackie!Faraday, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masochism, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Older Man/Younger Man, Older Woman/Younger Man, Orgasm Denial, Original Character Death(s), Outlaw!Faraday, POV Third Person Limited, Pain Kink, Painplay, Partial Mind Control, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Safewords, Sex Toys, Starlord!Faraday, Vouyerism, Wall Sex, Whips, dark as fuck, like seriously adding all the dark, sorta song fic?, unintentional dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8643748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangelsings/pseuds/Archangelsings
Summary: He just wants it to hurt. Why is that too much to ask?Or a sorta messed up Faraday side storyChapters 1 and 2  of  A Curious Remembering should be read first.  "My name's, Josh," Jackie, no, apparently Josh, says as he slips his synthsuit back on. He bites his lip when he turns to face him, looking like he's debating saying something."What is it baby boy?"Visibly steeling himself Josh opens his mouth, "we should do this again. I... I enjoyed it. Alot."Steve blinks from where he's prone on the bed."Definitely, baby face."





	1. Vouyer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kat2107](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat2107/gifts).



> Warning: This is NOT for the feint of heart. The following contains dubcon (not on Faraday's end), murder and dubiously underage sex (Faraday's age is not exact but hes between 17-19 so choose what makes you most comfortable) all wrapped up in the warped perspective of a post torture Faraday. It is not required to read this peice to follow the story. But of you want a be more aware of how Faraday has developed go for it.
> 
> Some more notes:
> 
> -Only the last segment is told from Faraday's POV. He's the subject of all of them though.
> 
> -There is no meeting or sex between Faraday and Vasquez in this 
> 
> -This takes place approx 1 year after his escape from the facility in "A Curious Remembering" and about the same time as Chisolm's origin.
> 
> -The kid in Barry's segment is Faraday. Steve is not Faraday but he is purposely written to resemble canon! Faraday, Jackie is Faraday in his segment.
> 
> -Some songs that inspired/motivated me to finish this:  
> *Fade by Kanye West  
> *Pray by Terror Jr  
> *Like em Young by Tove lo
> 
> -Big thank yous go out to the Kat's!  
> *To KatTheTacoDemon: Thank you for being you and someone I can message until 3am  
> *To Kat2107: Thank you for the title of this fic! And for the smirk line! And for the fact that you're totally cool with lowkey spoilers and can stand the fact that I can literally talk about this fic-verse for hours. It's helped tons, making connections I probably wouldnt have otherwise.

**. B A R R Y .**  

> _I think I think too much_  
>  I feel it's fadin'  
>  Ain't nobody watchin'  
>  I feel it's fadin'  
>  I just fade away -Kanye West 'Fade'

**The doorman, a beefy tentacle faced alien** with slick warty skin the same off white shade as puss, eyes the scrawny street kid in front of him incredulously **.** _There's always one,_ he figures letting out a sigh, _thinking that they can slip past, but they don't count on me._  His tentacles shiver with the force of his conviction and he crosses his long flipper like appendages over the button vest on his chest. _Might work on old Greg but Barry's on duty tonight and ain't no_ _getting past Barry Shkolovich._

"Look, I'm not letting you in," Barry says in the rumbling tri-toned voice so unique to the Aquarian species, his sub vocals clearly exasperated, "so you can turn your pretty little head around right now." No way is Barry risking his job on some scrawny dick probably dared by some _bigger_ asshole to get inside _Madame Dementia's_  sex club.

Just last week a bar got 'shut down' for breaking one of Batty Steph's--the undisputed  boss of the Nimbus Asteroid Colonies--rules. Everyone in the red district was talking about it. Jumpy as fuck too with the extra Blue Wings on the streets.  He turns the attention of the small army of eyes on his face towards the next patron in line, tentacles beckoning them forward like little aposable fingers. "Next!"

Tapping the kid's shoulder, he signals for the street rat to move to the side, and he does, no fuss, letting the guy behind him--a regular named Steve with a killer whip fetish--pass. Barry cringes internally. Steve's decent at it too from what he's heard, _Steve's around, I'm so ready_ , no mess from any of the girls so that's something... Still cringey though.

The kid clears his throat and Barry turns to look at him. The green eyed smirk on his face is downright dangerous, all sharp teeth edged with faux innocence, toying that fine line between insolent and amused. 

_Forget about me?_

"I've got the credits," he says twirling a credit chip between his fingers like one of those old timey magicians with their coins. "More than, really...if you're interested."

 _Cocky son of a bitch.._. The kid catches the chip in the palm of his hand, shoving it in one of the many pockets on his industrial grade synthsuit. Barry feels a couple of his eyes narrow, tentacles curling up in the approximation of a snarl. He just wants to punch the scrawny shit in the face. He's asking for it. It'd be easy. The kid's ninety pounds soaking wet... Do it... go on... hit him... Make it hurt and be done with it...

Barry flexes one of his arm flippers. "Not 'bout the money kid."

"Oh?" The kid's drumming a hand against his skinny thigh, leaning in. Cheeks rosy, wolfish smirk firmly in place, his eyes flash with... _something_. _Something_ Barry can feel echoed uncomfortably down his spine. _Hit him. Hit him. Come on Barry, stop being a wimp. "_ What's it about then,"  the kid growls, the contradictory current of a purr running underneath it, " _Barry_."

 _What the?_ Barry blinks, the sound of his name like the splash of cold water on his face and takes in the kid's appearance again. There's sweat darkening the shaggy reddish hair against his hairline, his breathing just that side of too laboured to be casual. Barry feels the saggy folds on his face lift in surprise when he sees how close he was to hitting him. He doesn't even remember deciding to do that. "The fuck?!" Barry rumbles, tri-tones jumping higher than normal. "Shit kid-- are you...Are you _getting off_ on this?"

The kid frowns, swaying back on the balls of his feet as he reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. Vintage. Barry feels, his neck folds rising with the ones on his face. _The. Fuck._

"You gonna let me in if I am?" The kid asks, idly shuffling the deck between nimble fingers.

"No."

The kid sighs, turning that weirdly intense green eyed gaze onto Barry, that subtle spark of _something_ racing through his body.

" _Let. Me. In._ "

**. S T E V E .**

> _Preach for me daddy. Pray for the Pussy -Terror Jr 'Pray'_

**The guy Barry let inside is** **staring**.

"Color?" Steve asks, bringing his attention back to the curvy brunette tied to the wall in front of him. Her head lolls listlessly to the left, deep blue lights flashing across her features. "Hey," he says, tapping her cheek with the handle of his whip. "Answer me."

"Mmm," she hums. There's a drunken smile curling her lips upwards as she squirms in her binds, "green," she sing-songs. "Like leaves."

Steve clicks his tongue.

 "Green _what_?" He growls, tightening and slackening his hold on the whip in his hand before roughly pulling her head up by the roots of her hair. " _Look_ at me this time when you answer." She gasps and Steve casts another periphery glance at the guy. 

Still there. Still looking. Finally stopped drumming on his thigh though. Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smirking.

Interesting.

The brunette giggles through a groan, hands flexing uselessly in her binds as Steve pulls her head back again. "Green," she laughs breathlessly, eyes shot and pupils blown, "green, sir."

"Good girl," Steve smirks, scratching her under the chin, right above her collar. She tilts her head back to give him more room, "but you're done for tonight."

"Aww," she whines, "but sir."

"You're high as a fucking kite, babe," he says, unclasping her arms from the wall and gently lowering her to her feet. "Get some rest and come back when you can say your name."

She pouts. "I can say my name."

"Uh-huh," He says, rubbing the circulation back into her arms. "What is it?"

"Dusky Glitters!" She starts laughing all over again.

"Hun, that's your safe-word."

"Fine," she gets up on shaky legs and sticks out her tongue, wagging a finger in his face, "be a party pooper, Stevie."

Steve grins. "Don't be sad now, can't help I'm the world's greatest lover."

"In your dreams Stevie."

"You'll be in mine." He tilts his head back, making eye contact with the guy in the corner as 'Dusky' totters away. He raises a brow. Jerks his head in the direction of a more secluded corner of the club.  _Coming?_  The guy uncrosses his arms. Looks to where he's gesturing. Looks back. Straightens.

Steve'll take that as a yes.

And that's it. Without another moment Steve starts walking, deep blues and purples dancing across the sweat on his chest like little stars. His boots are laced up to his shins, the dark leather cuffs of his pants stuffed inside them.

He weaves through the bodies, groans and moans and hisses of pain mixing in the air to the rhythm of strobing lights. _Ah! Yes! Harder! Whose bitch are you?!_ Steve grins as he strides past, riding high on the feeling of a successful hook-up. It's like a psychedelic sex chorus.

There's a curtain not too far in front of him that leads to the heart of _Madame Dementia's._  Steve makes sure the guy is still following before stepping through. The dark flowing flaps shiver in the air behind him. Swallowing him whole.

He walks down the stairs.

He waits.

The guy clears his throat behind him.

_Well that didn't take long._

"If you're planning on killing me," the guy says, voice a low expressionless baritone, "you'd have had better luck out there."

Steve laughs, turning around and getting his first good look at the guy he'd invited over. He was built. Taller than Steve even, with toned arms and a young face, dark hair just starting to grow back out of a buzz. "Sorry to disappoint but this ain't that kind of club, baby face." He leans casually against the wall, "You GC? Military?"

The guy blinks, then frowns with a faraway look on his face. "No," he finally says, "I'm not GC. Refugee."

Steve nods. "Good to know," he pushes himself off the wall, "cause then I'd have to _actually_ kill you, Steph's rules and all. Which would suck. Didn't even get your name yet."

"You can call me Jackie," the guy, Jackie says, tapping the meat of his synth covered forearm with a finger.

"Okay. Follow me Jackie."

They walk a little further, only stopping long enough for the Blue Wing on duty (he thinks his name was Roger or something) to scan his bio-tatt.

"What was that about?" Jackie asks when they reach their destination, a dimly lit private room at the end of the hall.

"Only Blue Wing's are allowed back here. Madame D's sweet on Steph like that," Steve connects his comm-band to a panel on the wall and taps a few commands onto the holo-screen. "You're new here huh? Everyone on Nimbus knows that."

Jackie's lips thin to a line. "Refugee," he says, self explanatory, which okay. Yeah. Steve guesses it is.

"Right, well," Steve disconnects his comm and runs a hand through his hair, a few blonde strands falling over his eyes, "I turned on the sound dampeners, feel free to be as loud as you want. I won't complain, trust me."

 "So considerate."

Steve purses his lips. "I've got three rules," he continues, holding up three fingers. 

"One," he puts down a finger, "when we start, you call me sir and only speak when spoken to or to safe-word out," he pauses, "what's your safe-word?"

"Starlord."

"Starlord, what?"

"Starlord, sir."

"Good, remember that, I won't stop otherwise," he puts down another finger, "rule two, I don't kiss. I ain't your boyfriend or your lover or your husband. You're not here cause you're in love with me, you're here cause you wanna get off. Don't treat it like something else. Understood?"

"Yes," Steve raises an eyebrow and Jackie continues, "sir."

"Three," the last finger goes down. "I'm in control. My word is law. You come if and when I tell you to. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Steve nods, walking over to a waist high cabinet. He opens it, placing his whip back inside and running his fingers over some of the other toys hanging inside. "Anything you want in particular?"

"You choose," he hears Jackie shifting behind him, "just make it hurt, _sir_."

Steve grins, grabbing a flogger and a plain strip of cloth, "You're in luck. I have it on good authority that's something I can definitely do."

"Sir."

He closes the cabinet, stashing his chosen wares in the back of his pants and turning to face Jackie. The other man is biting his lip, an adorable flush colouring his cheeks a deep red. "Take off your clothes and lay on the bed," Steve says, waving his hand in the direction of the mattress in the center of the room. "Eyes closed. Say 'I'm ready' when you're done. Understood?"

He watches as Jackie takes a breath, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He taps the collar of his synth suit, unclasping the top and revealing the zipper hidden at the top of the skin tight material. "Understood, sir." He begins to pull it down. Steve braces his hands on the cabinet behind him.

 "Do it slow."

Jackie pauses, then continues--slower--inches of creamy white skin teasing out from underneath the dark red and black material. First there's his collarbone, strangely delicate in conjunction with his general bulk. Then the broad set of his shoulders, light muscles moving incrementally with his movements.

There's smatterings of freckles on his chest, broken only by the faint trails of darker chest hair curling over his pectorals and running down his navel. His abs are defined and when he finally slips his legs out of his pants, Steve can't help but let out a low whistle.

"Get on the bed."

Jackie, blinks looking a little nervous like he doesn't know what he's doing but complies and lays across the bed on his back, shifting a moment on the burgandy covers before stilling. He blows out a breath of air. "I'm ready, sir."

"Good boy," Steve pushes himself off the cabinet and starts walking towards the bed, taking out the strip of cloth from where he'd stashed it in his pants. "I'm going to blind fold you now. Color?"

"Green, sir."

Steve nods and lifts Jackie's head, securing the cloth to his eyes.

"Let's get started."

* * *

 

He starts off easy, just some light touching, no toys, just hands, getting a feel for the body underneath him. Jackie doesn't react at first, not beyond a faint squirm when Steve's touch ghosts over a particularly ticklish spot. His breathing remains deceptively even.

He toys with Jackie's nipples, rakes his fingers across his chest, massages his wrists and applies light pressure to the balls of his feet. Exploring. Playing. Watching for the tiniest reaction. The smallest hitch of breath. He tells him he's a good boy, tells him what a great job he's doing and he revels in the flush the words bring out over Jackie's body. Loves how that more than anything is what really starts to turn him on.

He pinches a rosy nipple, watches as Jackie's composure finally starts to drop, and _twists_. Jackie arches off the bed, fingers curling in the sheets, left leg tucked under the knee of his right, a startled moan breeching his lips. The first hint of real pain leaves him panting, cock throbbing in the air.

Steve grins and twists again, holding it for a few seconds before letting go. "Ready for more?"

"Nnn," he groans, biting his lip and exposing the fine line of his neck to the air. Steve can't resist the urge to lightly slap it. "H-harder," Jackie whimpers. "'P-please."

Steve pulls back, lightly stroking Jackie's cock. "Please what?"

"Fuck," it's a drawn out word on his tongue, "sir please, I'm ready, please sir. Need it to hurt."

Steve squeezes the cock in his hand until  Jackie whimpers. "Good boy." He slaps him on the balls then reaches for his flogger. "Good boy. Color?"

"G-green, sir."

"Fun," he traces the ends of the toy over Jackie's chest. "I'm going to start hitting you now. What's your safe-word?"

"Starlord, sir."

"That's right. Use it if it gets too much. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

Steve brings the flogger down for the first strike.

* * *

 

When Jackie calls him daddy, tears leaking from under the blindfold and body a lovely mottled shade of white and red Steve just about creams his pants. 

* * *

His dick slips out of Jackie's mouth, Jackie's own a weeping mess on his chest as Steve guides his head away.

" _Kiss me, Daddy._ " Jackie whispers brokenly, lips swollen and covered in spit.

Steve gasps.

There's a spark of _something_ down his spine when he says it, a burning _fuck yes_ boiling in his veins, too hot for him to ignore.

Steve rips off the blindfold. Eyes like glittering emeralds, desperate and hard lock on to his. Arms reach out with trembling fingers, begging, calling.

" _Daddy_ \--"

Steve's lips swallow the words whole.

* * *

 

When Steve comes it's a rapture, Jackie's throat spasming around the head of his cock, choked off groans and moans whispering between his lips.

"Good boy," he hisses, pulling his oversensitive dick from Jackie's mouth and catching his breath. Steve runs a hand through the short hair on the ginger's head, thumbing lightly at his lip.

"Do you want to cum?" Steve asks reaching down into the space between them.

"No, I," Jackie's hands grab his wrists, " _Starlord_."

* * *

 

"My name's, Josh," Jackie, no, apparently Josh, says as he slips his synthsuit back on. He bites his lip when he turns to face him, looking like he's debating saying something.

"What is it baby boy?"

Visibly steeling himself Josh opens his mouth, "we should do this again. I... I enjoyed it. Alot."

Steve blinks from where he's prone on the bed, e-cig dangling from his lips. He feels that hot something run through his body at the thought of another shot with this gem.

"Definitely, baby face."


	2. Exhibitionist

**. J O S H U A .**

> _His little whispers,_   
>  _"Love me, love me_   
>  _That's all I ask for_   
>  _Love me, love me."- 'Monster' by Meg and Dia_

**It's not the fact that Steve's with someone else that makes Joshua angry.** Because that's not it. Not really. Steve can fuck who he wants, when he wants, how he wants, for however _long_ he wants. It's not like Josh's got a claim on him or anything.

_(He ignores that petulant voice in the back of his mind that whispers that he wouldn't really mind if he did.)_

_(He also ignores the one that's most certainly a fed up Jack waiting for him to get his shit together. Obviously not with those exact words, but the sentiment is the same.)_

No. Josh isn't jealous. He's not five. He's not even your average teen, he _gets_ it. Gets that they aren't exclusive or even really friends. They've hooked up--what?--a handful of times over the course of the past one and a half weeks? It doesn't matter. It means _nothing._ He's been over to Madame D's plenty without Steve at this point to know that what they're doing? That's the definition of fucking around. That's _it_.

_(Only when Steve's looking down at him like he's been a good boy and he's moaning out 'Daddy!' in a watery voice, it sorta feels like maybe it's not that simple)_

_(Jack is adamant in saying that it's just puberty talking. Josh hopes he's right)_

So no. Josh isn't jealous. He isn't being, clingy or possessive ( _liar_ ). He doesn't _mind_ sharing, hell Josh _likes_ watching. Likes to see Steve work on someone else, likes to see that firm steeled edge take someone else apart.

_(The edge that's never quite there when Steve's with him)_

_(It's just perception, though, it has to be. Right? What reason would he have to act differently?)_

_(He ignores the voice reminding him that Josh is the only one Steve will kiss)_

That's how they got in this mess to start with, he _likes_ , watching. Steve's... Steve's... Josh doesn't even know. He doesn't have any way to describe him that won't sound sappy and girly and--fuck--like he _cares_. But right now that doesn't even matter; he's angry. Because. Because...

_Josh_ is his Baby Boy. No one else.

_(So fuck it if he cares. Fuck it if he thinks Steve is gorgeous and funny and makes him feel something other than anger and the constant need to look over his shoulder. It's not love. It can't be. But it's something that feels an awful lot like stability)_

_(Jack wants them to leave. He says he doesn't like staying in one place too long. Josh thinks he's just scared of him getting hurt.)_

His cock goes limp in his hand.

He blinks. He feels... He feels angry, but also...

_(His eyes are watering and he doesn't understand_ why)

"Starlord." He whispers, fists shaking as that new dark emotion bubbles in his stomach. He doesn't know what it is, but he knows he wants it to _stop_.

Steve turns around, brow furrowed in confusion, "Josh? What--" 

"Out," Josh is shaking now, glare like ice fixed on the two in the bed. That dark emotion is slowly fading, feeding the fire to the anger that was already swirling just underneath the surface, "I want him out, Steve." Distantly he hears the sound of the toy cabinet doors open and close.

The frown on the older blonde's face deepens. "This was your idea, what--"

"OUT!" 

The ground ripples. The walls seem to curve inwards. The air _pulses_ \--like a living breathing thing--a flash of psychedelic color sparking on the edge of his vision and the cabinet goes _flying_ , smashing against the wall not too far from Steve's head.

( _Blood drips freely from his nose.)_

Steve flinches, eyes wide and Josh watches as his hand goes for the pistol that isn't there. Fuck. Jack was _right_. They've heard the rumors. He knows tales of the enhanced are spreading across galaxies like wildfire but--

Something in Josh _breaks_ at the sight. He staggers back and for the first time in a long time viscerally hates what the Harvesters have done to him. Hates what they've made him become.

"Fuck," Josh says in a trembling voice, body shaking where he's pressed rigidly against the wall. "Fuck!" _I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I just want my daddy back!_

As if awoken from a spell, Steve surges forward, reaching out as if to comfort him and Josh wants more than anything to let him--

There's a movement out of the corner of his eye--

_< <Faraday our immediate safety is about to be comprised. Action is required.>>_

He doesn't think, the _not-so-alien_ thing raging to the forefront of his mind and lashing out. It ripples through the air like a whip, lightening fast and crackling past Steve to where the third person in the room was pressing the help button.

Blood. Copper. Red. Those are the first things to register in Josh's mind. It paints the wall and ceiling like an abstract painting, dripping down like sewer sludge. Josh wipes his nose, fingers coming away the same red that paints the walls.

The next thing he notices, somewhat belatedly is the feel of Steve's bulk, slightly shorter than him, his head only coming to Josh's chin, but solid and warm and more than welcome.

Then it's the screaming. Josh blinks. It's not him and it's not Steve. He follows the trail of blood down to were the third guy is cradling his arm.

Or what's left of it.

Everything from the elbow below is just...gone.

"Oh, baby boy," he hears Steve murmur into the crook of his neck, "what have you done?"

_And_ the anger's back.

Josh shoves Steve off him. "Fuck you," he growls, "I'm not your baby boy."

"Josh," he tries, "you know--"

"Shut. _Up_." Another surge of power wells to the surface and knocks into Steve's stomach flinging him like a ragdoll into a corner of the room.

( _Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. What has he done? The situation is spiraling out of control. He's scared. He's scared for Steve. He's scared for the guy he didn't even get the name of. He's scared for himself. He can't seem to stop. He's just so angry)_

He turns his attention to the door. Inhales. Watches impassively as it scrunches in the center before being shoved off its hinges into the hallway. He walks outside. Snaps the necks of the Blue Wings standing guard there. Knocks a passerby in the legs hard enough to hear the sickening crack of their knees. Josh huffs raggedly from his mouth. There's blood coming out of his ears now.

( _Help me)_

_< <Faraday. What is happening?!>>_

He keeps going. Walks up the stairs into the public area. Knows when people notice him. Can feel their eyes on his bloody face like moth's drawn to a flame. His power grows with it. Swelling exponentially and reveling in the attention.

( _Oh god_ )

"You," he says, and he doesn't recognize his voice, doesn't recognize the words coming from his mouth as he points to a woman with long black hair and skin the colour of chestnuts. The opposite of Steve in every sense of the word. "What's your name."

The woman shivers, eyes glossy and already exposed nipples perking just at the sound of his voice. "Estella," she breathes sounding drawn out and already halfway to being well fucked.

"Estella," he repeats, closing the distance between them. He feels the eyes of every other patron in the club staring at them. It's heady. An addicting buzz just under the surface of his skin. "I'm going to fuck you."

His power sparks. The _not-so-alien_ thing shivering through the room and Estella moans. " _Yes_!"

He spins her around, forces her to brace her hands on the wall, kicking her legs out wider to stand between them. She's short, less than half his size, and soft, not at all like a man, and that's what he _wants_. 

He's still hard, embarrassingly so, in his synthsuit and it takes no time at all to free himself. He pulls the lace panties over her sex down past the curve of her ass before pressing a hand into the small of her back, arching it and shoving his way into her wet and waiting entrance.

Josh's mouth gapes and he falls forward, hands tightly holding onto her hips as he gives himself a moment to adjust. It's all just so--

( _Wet. Warm. Right. Tight. Jesus. The way she pulses around him. Desperate. He can taste how desperate she is. How desperate they all are in his mind a weird phantom feeling burning in the spot his implant used to be.)_

Estella moans as he starts moving. Thrusting. He pulls her head back by her hair and bites her neck. His hands move uselessly up and down her sides, unsure where to place them.

"My breasts," she breathes out through another moan, "squeeze my breasts."

He does. Cupping one in the palm of each of his hands. Squeezes. Kneads. Pinches her nipples. He's close. Been close. Been close since he left Steve--

( _Don't think about that_ )

She's close too. He can feel it. Knows it like he knows the sky is blue. He can feel how close _everyone_ is. Just a little longer. A little harder. A little faster--

_(There's a mirror in front of him and he can see how dangerous he looks, sweaty and powerful, muscles flexing and moving with a jackhammer's efficiency. He bites his lip. He's sure it's a trick of the light but he swears his eyes look pitch_ black.)

Josh cries out. Heat in the back of his brain overwhelming as he comes. Estella convulses in his grip, body going rigid and then--

Silence.

He pulls out of her, cock flagging and he lets her go.

"Fuck," he says as he catches his breath and tucks himself back in.

Estella's body slide to the floor. Josh blinks, the fog in his mind receeding as his power does too. That's when he realizes no one is moving either. _What in the hell?_

He reaches down, shaking her shoulder, "hey."

No answer.

"Dammit," he turns her over and--

( _Holy shit where are her eyes? Blood from her ears and nose and mouth. It reminds him of something but he can't put his finger on it)_

Dead.

Everyone is dead.

He feels empty. Not really sad. Not really remorseful. Not much of anything, but something keeps him there. Staring. Just looking at her semi charred face. Veins looking black around her eyes and on her neck.

It's how Steve finds him some time later.

He rests a hand on Josh's shoulder, e-cig in his mouth as he squats down next to him, pained grunt leaving his lips. Josh doesn't look away from Estella's face. Steve doesn't say anything more. For a time.

"So... the rumors are true, huh?" Steve says casually after awhile. "'Bout the enhanced."

Josh remains silent. Steve sighs, moving his hand up to cradle the back of his neck and tilt it towards his lips, placing a kiss there. "It's okay. Daddy's seen worse," he turns Josh's face away from the body of Estella, smothering him in his warmth. Steadfast and strong. Josh slowly moves to cling to his chest, eyes watering.

"We'll figure it out baby boy."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea ugh this happened. Hope you enjoyed. NEXT up Chisolm!
> 
> Will beta more thoroughly later. I just need this up before going.to school. I've done some.prelim edits though.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any typos #phonewritingop  
> If you reached the end, congrats! If not that's cool too. All you missed was some Faraday daddy kink, a real petite morte, and gratutious amounts of foreshadowing that indirectly affect the future fic.
> 
> If you caught my shameless Marvel refs. Double congrats! There's three!
> 
> As always my Tumblr and Twitter handles are:  
> Tumblr @ addlcted2words (L not I)  
> Twitter @ArchangelSings
> 
> Come say hi!  
> My tumblr is open to Jack the AI questions!! And I also post snippets of WIPS if that's like your thing.  
> And my Twitter is always open to just squee over hot cowboys doing gay shit.


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